


It's Not Us (working title)

by Death_Scimitar



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drama, Eventual Relationships, Friendship/Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death_Scimitar/pseuds/Death_Scimitar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Shiratorizawa's fall to Karasuno, Ushijima tries to make sense of his loss. Not his loss to Hinata Shouyo, but the loss to Tsukishima Kei.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: It's Not Us

**Author's Note:**

> So, it really has been a long time since I've actually written anything and this just kinda came out. 
> 
> I know this first chapter is really, really short, but I hope that it would make things easier for me when it comes to updating. I've recently realized that I write in short spurts, so maybe it'll help that I don't feel like I have to bust out 5,000+ words chapters like I used to.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this prologue.

Ushijima couldn’t believe he lost. He was the strongest, surrounded by the strongest members, carefully scouted and picked in order to create the strongest team. Yet, here he – his team – stood on the end line, bowing to his elated opponents and thanking them for a good game through the echoing of the stadium.

He had lost. He wasn’t the strongest anymore.

His hands fisted at his sides as they returned to their bench to gather their belongings. Tendou watched him; the others were too busy dealing with their own bitter feelings.

“Y’know, Wakatoshi, just because the shrimp beat you, doesn’t make you any weaker.”

Ushijima pulled on his jacket, his ears still drowning out the sounds of celebration. “It wasn’t the shrimp who defeated me.” The zipper caught on the fabric as his hands tried to jerk it close.

“Oh, really?”

“Despite his and Kageyama’s declaration, they still couldn’t stand up to me in a one-on-one battle—”

“Technically two-on-one, but who’s counting?” Tendou quipped and flung his arm around Ushijima’s shoulders. The two of them were the last to leave, the backs of the rest of the team were already disappearing down the hall to the locker rooms. Pulling the ace away from the bench, the two started to make their way out, ignoring the reporters and camera flashes.

“While Shiratorizawa was defeated Karasuno, I was defeated by Nishinoya and that number 11.” Ushijima brushed Tendou’s arm away. He knew Nishinoya was a genius libero and had the talent to join Shiratorizawa, but despite what the school had to offer, he had declined. Karasuno’s number 11 was a surprise though. The middle blocker was not confident, but rational. He was a complete opposite from Hinata; calm, collected, and knew exactly where he stood in scale of power and talent.

Yet he touched almost every one of his spikes, outright blocked a few, and was able to drive not only Ushijima into a corner, but the other spikers, where Nishinoya was able to clean up.

“Yeah, he was pretty annoying.” Tendou stopped, allowing Ushijima to walk ahead of him. “But don’t forget, you did a number on his hand. And though he played through it, an injury like that will stick with him.”

 _An injury I caused_. It just took a second, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind Ushijima felt his throat tighten and made him pause in his tracks. “Should I be happy about that?” He turned to look back at Tendou.

Tendou stood with his hands threaded through his hair, pulling tightly against the roots, and his eyes screwed shut. “ _What is it ~ That breaks with a crickety-crack? ~ Your heart of course!_ ” His voice choked on the words. “It was supposed to be us, Wakatoshi! On that grand stage of the Nationals, it was supposed to be us…”

“But it’s not.”


	2. Crescendo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took longer than expected to get this chapter out! With work, sickness, family life, and everything in between it's hard to get a moment to sit down and write. It doesn't help a scene gave me such a hard time. Please enjoy!

The bus ride home was the most obnoxious ride Tsukishima had to endure in recent memory. Between the loud shouts of the four idiots, Coach Ukai’s caws of triumphant laughter, and the throbbing of his hand, he felt his was perfectly entitled to pull his headphones over his ears and drown out everything.

Bokuto had been right. That click, that hook, that tugging feeling of being caught with the line and sinker, there was no escape now. He couldn’t go back to his apathetic life, his way of just doing enough to excel. It would feel so empty. Like an upbeat song without any rousing crescendo. Just flat and empty.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Yamaguchi joined the others in their excited chatter. The freckled teen had really come far, farther than Tsukishima would have given him credit for or would have expected of him. Yamaguchi was no longer clinging to just him, he reached out to the others all on his own.

If Tsukishima really wanted to be honest with himself, he actually wanted to join them. The next best thing was to not press play on his MP3 player.

Shifting in his seat, the bag of ice he had pinning his hand to his leg, sloshed off and splattered on the floor, water leaking out from a ripped side. “Tch.”

A sharp pang reminded him to be extra careful when doing things; he couldn’t just grab the bag like he wanted to, no, he had to shift in his seat and reach across with his left and a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Don’t worry about it, Tsukishima,” Sawamura said, holding another bag of fresh, solid ice, “it’s just water. We’ll clean it up once we get back to school.”

Tsukishima accepted the ice with a small nod and covered his hand with it. He couldn’t keep the surprise off his face when the captain took a seat next to him. “You sure that’s alright? We wouldn’t want someone like Hinata to slip on the water and crack his head open.” He slipped the headphones down to his neck and waited.

Unfortunately, Hinata didn’t take the bait like Tsukishima expected. Or rather, didn’t get a chance to as diminutive middle blocker’s phone went off with a series of blips and beeps.

“You were amazing out there,” Sawamura continued. “Honestly, without you and Nishinoya heading our defense we wouldn’t have stood a chance.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his actions almost apologetic. “I hate to say it, but I might have to owe Kuroo a thank you.”

Tsukishima felt his breath leave him but quickly covered the skipped breath with a scoff. “Don’t give him the pleasure.”

Sawamura laughed. “Yeah, you’re right, don’t want to give our rivals too much credit.” Standing up, he reached over and _ruffled_ Tsukishima’s hair. “When we get back, make sure you get your hand checked out again.”

Tsukishima bristled. The captain was too affectionate, too close. It did not sit well with him.

“Hey, Tsukishima!”

Hinata bounded over, his cell phone held out in front of him like a warding charm. The tall middle blocker felt a justified shot of gratification when Hinata slipped and Sawamura had to catch him by the elbow before he went crashing to the floor.

“Maybe I’ll go get that towel,” the captain said once Hinata was steady on his feet,

Hinata nodded his thanks and fixed Tsukishima with what the blond assumed was supposed to be a glare but looked more like a petulant pout. “Here.”

Tsukishima looked at the phone, an eyebrow quirked up. “What?”

“For you,” Hinata rolled his eyes. “The phone.”

“Why would I—”

“Kenma said Kuroo- _san_ wanted to speak to you.”

Tsukishima frowned. He knew the look he gave Hinata was not a nice one. The mere mention of Nekoma’s captain set him on edge and he did not know why. With Sawamura talking about owing him a thank you and now Hinata saying he was on the other end… he took the cell phone, ignoring the way Hinata’s face pinched together like he swallow a lemon when he brought it up to his ear.

 _“Ah, there’s Glasses-_ kun _, I was wondering if I ever was going to get a chance to congratulate you.”_

“Kuroo- _san_.” He watched Hinata shuffle back to his seat and the captain tossing a towel on the floor and using his foot to mop up the water. Once done, he reached under the seat and wrapped the bag up, giving Tsukishima a small smile before heading back up to the front of the bus.

 _“Hey now, no need to be so hostile. I think I have a right to take interest in my_ kouhai’s _achievements.”_

Tsukishima leaned back in his seat and pinned the phone to his ear with his shoulder, eyeing Hinata as he stomped back to his seat next to Kageyama. “Are you taking Bokuto- _san_ ’s line of reasoning of since we defeated Ushiwaka and you have a number of wins over us that means you have a win over Shiratorizawa?”

 _“Ohoho! Something really must have clicked!”_ Kuroo laughed.

“What?”

 _“You said ‘we’.”_ Kuroo’s smugness seeped through the speaker. _“No longer the lone wolf, are we?”_

“I’m hanging up.”

_“No, no, no, please wait!”_

That was strange. With his finger hovering over the ‘End Call’, Kuroo actually sounded panicked. Tsukishima brought the phone back up to his ear.

_“Tsukishima? Are you still there?”_

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I didn’t hang up.”

A nervous chuckle. _“Aha, well, I… I wanted to ask… How’s your hand doing?”_

Was that all he wanted to ask? The cocksure smarminess was gone and Tsukishima could clearly understand that the question was not the one he had wanted to ask. “It’s fine. Dislocated, but it popped right back into place.”

 _“Ouch. Had a friend who dislocated his shoulder; he said it was never the same again.”_ Kuroo seemed to latch onto the topic like a lifeline. _“Hopefully it won’t give you too much trouble.”_

Kenma’s voice sounded in the background, faint and a little nasally. _“Kuroo, the two of you are talking on mine and Shouyo’s phones. Use your own.”_

As if Hinata could sense his name being spoken, Tsukishima watched the other first year cast a couple glances back at him. Or, more in particular, at his cell phone.

_“Ah, right, sorry. Tsukishima, give me you number.”_

“No.”

_“You’re so mean! What was it the shorty called you? Ah, Stingyshima! Stingy!”_

_“Kuroo, I don’t think antagonizing him is the way to go if you want his—”_

“Goodbye, Kuroo- _san_.”

Tsukishima felt satisfied when the, _“No, wait!”_ plea of Nekoma’s captain was abruptly cut off. However, he found he was increasing his list of things he would not admit to anyone or himself. He really _did_ want to speak with Kuroo more. But not even under torture and pain of death would he ever admit it.

Despite being a presumptuous asshole, Tsukishima really thought highly of Kuroo—and he would even throw Bokuto in there as well. Without their help he probably would have never been able to go head-to-head with Ushijima. It really was them who pushed his technique further.

He looked at the cell phone’s screen, flashing the call length. Maybe, just maybe, it would not have been so bad if it lasted longer.

Kageyama cleared his throat.

“Yes, King? What can this lowly peasant do for you?” Tsukishima’s lip curled up in some semblance of a smile.

The setter bristled. “I’m here to retrieve Hinata’s phone.” He held out his hand expectantly.

The surprise on the genius’s face when the phone was given over without a fuss irritated him. _What is wrong with me?_ The middle blocker could not figure out if the irritation was from the fact he did not tease Kageyama more about handing over the device or from genuine surprise that he did _not_ end up putting up more of a fight.

Kageyama still had yet to move.

“What?”

The struggle plainly spanned his face. “You were… great.” After a sharp exhale through his nose, Kageyama continued, “Amazing, actually. Hinata and I… our challenge to Ushiwaka, it became a sideshow to your battle. Though we finished out that last set, though he eventually shifted his attention to us, the primary focus was you.” He gave a quick incline of his head and went back to his seat.

What was wrong with everyone? Tsukishima himself felt out of character, Kageyama was actually being civil and complimenting him, Hinata let him use his phone, Sawamura was being affectionate, and Kuroo— _Kuroo_ acted _hesitant_ on the phone. The prolific instigator sounding so unsure of himself was the strawberry topping of the cake.

He was done. With his headphones secured firmly over his ears, he pressed play and turned up the volume, paying no mind when Yamaguchi took his normal seat next to him. Despite the playlist being one of his top favorites, he couldn’t focus on it. The bass became the sound of a volleyball slamming against the court, thudding outstretched hands for a block, the harmonies the squeaks of shoes, and any vocals the calls for the ball and warnings.

And the crescendo of Ushijima Wakatoshi jumping for the spike directly in front of him.

Tsukishima closed his eyes with the image of ace spiker burned into his mind.

 

 

~*~

 

 

A hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly brought him back. Sugawara smiled lightly at him as his bearings returned. The bus had arrived back at the school and the vice-captain and he were the only ones left on the bus.

“Sorry, Tsukishima- _kun_ , but we made it back.” He already had both his and Tsukishima’s bag slung over one shoulder. “You had it rough and we thought it best to let you sleep for as long as you could.”

“You didn’t have to,” Tsukishima mumbled and stood up. He followed Sugawara off the bus and tried to take his bag from him, only to be ‘tsk’ed at with an admonishing finger.

“Everything has already been unloaded and we’re meeting in the gym before heading home.” Sugawara said over his shoulder, leading the way to the gymnasium. Tsukishima just nodded at the third year’s back, eyeing his bag and just wanting to grab it himself.

As if sensing Tsukishima’s discomfort, the vice-captain stopped before the gym’s doors and slipped the bags off of his shoulder. Untangling the straps, he held out the middle blocker’s bag with a small smile.

“Thanks,” Tsukishima mumbled and slung it over his left shoulder, walking pass Sugawara and into the gym.

“Aha! There’s sleeping beauty!” Tanaka roared as he bounded over to him, Nishinoya hot on his heels.

“The great pillar of our defense!” the libero crowed.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and did not bother with a response, since Shimizu already dealt a blow that cut the two second years off from whatever line of teasing they were following. With a sound _smack_ to the back of their heads with her notebooks the two crumpled to the ground in sheer ecstasy.

“We’re starting the meeting,” she said, nodded to Tsukishima and Sugawara, and walked away.

“Shimizu- _senpai_!”

Tsukishima took a seat next to Yamaguchi and bit back a yawn. Despite the nap, he did not feel anywhere near rested. It did not help when he kept dreaming of black cats and a purple eagle he was trying to catch.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi leaned forward to try and get a look at his face.

“I’m fine.”

“Alright, everyone!” Sawamura’s voice halted any further conversation. “Listen up!”

Coach Ukai stood in front of the semi-circle of players, a wide grin splitting his face. “All of you were spectacular! We had tough times against many teams, and this battle with Shiratorizawa was no exception. Even when we were down, we pulled through, every one of us.” He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded to himself. “I’m proud of all of you. A bunch of crows like us took down eagles, champions. But we can’t let it get to our heads. This was only the first step; next, we’re taking Nationals!”

The shouts of the team echoed through the gymnasium, a crescendo-ing racket of whoops and cheers that even had Tsukishima smirking.

“Hey!” Coach Ukai yelled, trying to reel everyone back in. “Your _sensei_ has something to say as well.”

Takeda cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “Each and every one of you has grown since we first started the season. Some more explosively and loudly than others, some quietly and behind the scenes until it was your chance to shine, and some unexpectedly to everyone’s relief.” He took a step forward and looked around at the group. “Coach is right, we did take down champions, however, where we’re headed next every team is considered a champion there. Nekoma, Fukurodani, Shinzen, Ubugawa, any one of them could meet us on that grand stage. Remember those defeats. But at the same time, remember how you’ve grown because of those losses.” Takeda smiled. “Flightless birds no more, indeed.”

Sawamura stood up before the teacher could start apologizing for saying anything strange. “Thank you, Takeda- _sensei_.” He bowed.

Everyone immediately clambered to their feet, even Tsukishima without hesitation and followed their captain’s lead with an echo of gratitude.

“Alright, you lot!” Coach Ukai gathered their attention again. “Head on home and get some rest. Remember, no practice tomorrow! I mean it!” He eyed Hinata and Kageyama in particular. “You all need to rest after today. We will resume the following day. Got it?”

“Yes!”

“Dismissed!”

Tsukishima reached down to grab his bag, watching the antics of the rest of the team. Hinata and Kageyama immediately made their way over to Yachi and the three of them started to discuss something that was no way in their native language. If the abashed face of Asahi and the small grin of Sugawara were anything to go by it was more than likely the captain made a joke at the ace’s expense. The second year’s were already exiting the gym _en masse_ , mostly discussing Narita’s debut. Shimizu stood by Takeda’s side, writing down whatever he was saying into her notebook.

“Tsukki, I’ll walk—” Yamaguchi started.

“Ah, Tsukishima, I need to talk to you,” Coach said with a wave of his hand.

Tsukishima adjusted the strap on his shoulder. “You can go on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Yamaguchi seemed to deflate at that but immediately perked up with a smile. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Tsukki!” He headed over to Hinata’s group and joined them as they left the gym.

“Yes?” Tsukishima watched as Coach shifted his weight to one side.

“How’s the hand?”

His eyebrow quirked in annoyance. “It’s fine.”

Coach laughed. “Yeah, I figured you would say something like that. C’mon, I’ll take you to the clinic and they’ll check it out there.”

“I don’t need…” Tsukishima sighed. He knew he was not going to get anywhere.

“Don’t worry, _Sensei_ already contacted your parents to let them know.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Tsukishima mumbled. He avoided Coach’s stare, noting they were the only ones left.

“Then what are you worried about?”

Tsukishima shook his head. He really did not know himself, but he knew it had something to do with the image of Ushiwaka he saw every time he closed his eyes. “Nothing.”

The trip to the clinic was spent in silence. However, at the clinic it was not nearly as quiet. The nurse scolded Coach Ukai for not bringing him in sooner, explaining that the break in skin from the dislocation was cause for concern, a rush to get X-rays, and another pack of ice.

After a wait that left Coach Ukai antsy, the doctor finally came in and gave them the news. “The good thing is nothing was broken and the finger relocated itself. It’s going to need to be splinted for the next couple of weeks and iced every three to four hours for the next three days.”

“What about playing volleyball?” Tsukishima asked. As soon as the words left his mouth he could easily imagine a smirking Kuroo and Bokuto crooning over the fact he now was hooked on a sport he had felt apathy and even a little disdain before.

“I would advise against it for the next two to three weeks,” the doctor said, but sighed. “However, knowing you kids nowadays, that’s probably wistful thinking. Watch for swelling, keep it splintered, and keep it iced. And if your finger turns blue for whatever reason, seek medical attention.” He shot a glare at the other adult in the room. “Got it, Coach?”

“Right.” Coach Ukai rubbed the back of his neck.

The ride to drop Tsukishima off at home was not as quiet. Coach kept mumbling to himself about how he hated doctors and in between each muttered rant he would ask how the hand was doing to which Tsukishima would blandly respond with a, “It’s fine.”

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out he saw a message from Yamaguchi.

 

**Yamaguchi:**

**_What did the doctor say? Hope everything turned out alright._ **

****

**Tsukishima:**

**_Nothing I didn’t know myself. Coach is driving me home._ **

****

**Yamaguchi:**

**_That’s good news at least._ **

 

Tsukishima went to tuck his phone back into his jacket, but it went off again.

 

**Yamaguchi:**

**_Ah, Hinata said that Kenma said that Kuroo is wanting to get your number. Is there something you need to tell me? : )_ **

****

Tsukishima did not reply. He ignored any other messages, whether they were from his friend or not. Yamaguchi certainly became bolder in his teasing and while it was nice to see it did not mean Tsukishima approved of it being used on him. The once shy first year, Tsukishima’s first friend—and he would admit probably his only friend—knew more about him than anyone else. It was both disconcerting and a little bit of a relief to have Yamaguchi tease him about it without any malice.

But, really, Kuroo of all people?

His hand ached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did want to remark on a few things: walking around on a moving bus - probably an American thing as I had done so many times on trips after tournaments, so I'm using personal experience for that.
> 
> Dislocated anything. Don't wait to get X-rays! Shame on Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei... also based on personal experiences.
> 
> Anything after chapter 177 of the manga does not apply to this piece.
> 
> Thanks!


	3. Facts and Variables

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I'm a notorious slow updater. The holidays didn't help either... Please enjoy!

The school day for Ushijima felt empty. There was not any practice that morning and there would not be any that evening either. Tendou was back to his normal self—the frustration and tears from the finals erased. Some of the others were having a harder time of it though: Goshiki looked at everything like it had just betrayed him by existing, scowling at his shoes like they just insulted his “Super Straight” and Shirabu was seen shoving his homework and books to the side, ignoring them to stare at his hands as they clenched into fists.

The rest of the third years went about their normal school day, preparing for upcoming finals, some putting more effort in the ever before. Ohira and Semi were seen, pouring over the same textbook, with the former offering a placating motion when the latter grew frustrated at a particular problem.

Tendou, however, went on his merry way of trying to get Ushijima to discuss the latest chapter of some popular _Jump_ series. “Ah, man, that last panel when Kagami went into The Zone was one of the most spectacular scenes ever!” He followed Ushijima through the cafeteria, balancing his tray in one hand as his other hand gestured his excitement.

Ushijima mostly ignored him—he honestly had no idea what the guess blocker was talking about—and found an unoccupied table. Setting his tray down, he slid into the seat.

“So,” Tendou drawled as he also placed his tray down and took the seat across from him, “how’s it goin’?”

“Fine.” It was true, he felt fine. Things were fine and moving on as they were meant to, nothing stops for one person. He kept moving; his morning run, classes, lunch, more classes to come, practice—no, stop.

There was no practice later.

“That face definitely does not say, ‘fine’.” Tendou reached across the table and poked him in the center of the forehead before pulling back with a wry smirk.

“Really?” Ushijima rubbed the sore spot absently. “But everything is fine.”

“Yeah and we didn’t have practice this morning, which I’m sure is _fine_. Same with not having any later.” The guess blocker pushed the food around on his plate. “Coach must still be pissed. But I think there really wasn’t much else we could do; Karasuno scraped by with that win.” He chuckled. “The devil’s luck and scraping by with the skin of their teeth.”

“Kind of similar to how you play.”

Tendou was mid-swallow when Ushijima spoke and started to choke when the words registered. “You’re so mean!” he said between coughs.

“Sorry.”

Tendou laughed. “No you’re not.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” He flapped his hand in a placating gesture. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

Ushijima tilted his head to the side. “About what?”

“About anything.”

“You’re confusing, Satori.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” He took a bite and leaned back in his seat.

Ushijima looked down at his own untouched food. He was still going to play volleyball—still play for the Under 18 National Team—there was no doubt about that, despite the fact Shiratorizawa had fallen to a dark horse. But besides that, what else was there? Finish school was obvious and he knew he would even graduate with honors. Would it be university next or possibly a career in volleyball? He knew the offers were there, waiting at home on his desk, unopened. How long would it last?

He lost.

The unbeatable ace lost.

Lost to a team that only had one small taste of victory and glory.

Lost to a libero that could have—should have—made the greater choice in schools.

Lost to that Hinata Shouyo and Kageyama Tobio.

Lost to an unassuming, no-named first year.

“Hey, Wakatoshi, it isn’t the end of the world.”

Ushijima focused on Tendou. The redhead rested his cheek in the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the table, his eyes half-lidded, making him look more like the monster people accused him of being. “I know that.”

“Then why are you acting like it is?”

“I am not.”

“Tell that to the brow wrinkles you’ll get if you don’t stop glowering.”

Out of reflex, Ushijima found himself rubbing his forehead again. Could it be he was taking the loss too hard? But he was _supposed_ to win. It was in his nature to win, in his lineage, in his very blood. He was—is—the greatest player there is in the current generation.

Faced with the facts of his loss, he did not feel as such.

He stood up from his seat and pushed in the chair. Nodding a goodbye to Tendou he dumped his uneaten food into the trash. The woeful cry of his teammate saying he would have happily taken it did not reach his ears.

It was against his character, but he skipped classes the rest of the day. Instead, after changing out of his uniform into workout clothes, he headed to one of the smaller volleyball gymnasiums on campus. Individuals or small groups typically only used it on a rare occasion. Probably less now that the season was over.

Changing his shoes just outside the door, he entered the facility. As he thought, no one was around. The net was still set up and just needed to be pulled taunt. A cart of balls was left outside the storage room, meaning someone had been in there recently and did not clean up like they should have.

Taking off his team jacket, he folded it neatly and placed it by the door. Mechanically, he went to the net and tightened one side, and then checked the ties on the other, stretching his arms as he did so. Once satisfied with the net, he made his way over to the cart of balls and wheeled it to the end line.

The ball felt right in his hands, it belonged there. Spinning it between his fingers, he felt every seam and pad, even the little divot where the needle of the air pump entered. With his back nearly touching the wall, he tossed the ball high out in front of him and fell into a rhythm. His approach mimicked his spiking one, a jump, and swinging his arm forward.

The net was directly in front of him and beyond it he met the sharp gaze of eyes minutely dulled behind lenses and hands were there to interfere with the course of the ball.

His serve smacked directly in the center of the net.

Ushijima breathed sharply through his nose and grabbed another ball from the cart. He could not let himself get distracted. A high toss, another approach, and again he found himself at the net spiking against a clever blocker.

Another net ball.

Serve after serve found itself either in the net or so far out of bounds to hit the wall on the opposing side. Every time before him he saw a flash of a black and orange jersey, blond hair, and calculating eyes.

Reaching inside the cart, his fingers met with the cool fabric and a quick sweep brought up nothing. Sweat dripped from his forehead and into his eyes, burning.

Bringing a hand to his cheek, Ushijima felt the wet skin. It was not just sweat.

How could he be an ace now? When he was reduced to this, a poor excuse for a volleyball player?

At last Oikawa’s teary declarations and threats made some sort of sense now. If this was what he felt every time he had lost to him, it seems all the more relevant to give into the true definition of insanity. To keep performing the same action with the same, known results.

Grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt, he brought it up to his face to wipe away the evidence. Luckily the tears had stopped on their own without him making a conscious effort. Unluckily, a haphazardly rolled towel hit him in the side of the head to unfurl around his face.

Ushijima pulled the towel away from his face and let it fall to the floor, glancing back at whoever threw it. Ohira approached him, holding out a water bottle.

“Satori said that you would probably be here.”

Ushijima accepted the bottle and took a drink from it, nodding in reply.

“And that you probably needed to be comforted.” Ohira smiled and bent down to pluck the towel off the floor with a soft, “There we go.”

“Satori doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Ahh, I don’t know about that in this case.” He walked over to the wall and sat down on the floor, the towel still hanging from his fingers. “While he lives to tease everyone on the team it doesn’t mean he can’t pick out when someone is acting out of character.”

Ushijima followed and leaned against the wall next to him. “Did he pick up on your change of character?” He gestured to the towel.

Ohira laughed. “Actually he _did_ say I am spending too much time around Eita. Apparently I’ve picked up a few quirks.”

Ushijima could not help the small smile. “Just a few?”

Ohira glanced up at him in surprise, before shaking his head, bemused. Twisting the towel between his hands he said, “You know, I hate to admit it, but…” He trailed off, wringing the towel tighter and tighter. So tight Ushijima thought it might tear. “Maybe losing wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened.”

Ushijima pushed off the wall and glared down at his teammate. “We aren’t _supposed_ to lose! We’re the strongest team! I’m the strongest ace!” The water bottle creaked in his grip. “I’m the strongest…”

Ohira pulled himself up to his feet. “The super ace wouldn’t be doubting himself like this. The strongest ace has the most confidence, so much that it’s borderline arrogance. That is the ace.” He sighed. “These are the facts, Ushijima; we lost, you lost. That doesn’t mean we’re weak. It also doesn’t mean you’re no longer the strongest spiker out there. Hell, even college players and adults shrink from your attack.

“What it does mean is that Karasuno’s monstrous duo got the better of us.” He clapped Ushijima on the shoulder and gave a grin reminiscent of Tendou. “This time. And while we won’t get the chance to restore our name ourselves, Shiratorizawa isn’t going to forget, and next season is bound to be a bloodbath. I believe Goshiki will make sure of that.”

“There’s another monster they will have to worry about.” Ushijima turned away from Ohira and made his way to gather up the balls strewn across the court. He grabbed the cart as he passed it, hauling it behind him.

Ohira followed and helped him with the menial task. “Are you talking about the other middle blocker?” He tossed a ball into the cart and hummed in thought. “Yeah, I’ll agree with you there. He’ll turn into a prolific blocker, one that will probably be on par with that captain up in Tokyo in short order.” Picking up another ball, he spun it between his hands. “Why the sudden interest? It’s not like he was actually able to completely stop you. I’ll admit I was impressed that he continuing playing with his hand like that.” Ohira took the moment to toss the ball up to himself, letting it brush his fingertips and to be briefly cradled in his palms, before lifting it back up into a set towards the cart.

Ushijima watched the ball arch, it was not a great set but one he could use in a game if no other possibilities presented themselves. He caught it an arm’s length to the left of the cart and dropped it in. “No, he wasn’t able to completely stop me, but he didn’t have that baseless confidence he would be able to either. He still kept appearing in front of me.”

The ace looked over to find Ohira considering him with an eyebrow quirked and amusement twisting his lips. “Karasuno isn’t too far from here.”

“What?”

“I’m sure either Shirabu or Goshiki would still have the roster. Actually, Shirabu would be more likely.” Ohira tapped his chin.

“Reon, what are you talking about?”

Though he was still grinning, Ohira rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated huff. “Don’t worry too much about it right now, Wakatoshi. Right now, let’s just focus on finding out his name for you.”

Ushijima did not quite understand the effort his teammate was making for him, but he did feel something akin to relief—like how he knew Ohira would receive the serves aimed at him—this was just another opportunity for him to cover and support his ace.

Though, in this case, the reason was still an unknown variable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing my best with the characters, but Ushijima always feels flat to me. Though I do like trying to explore some of the other members of Shiratorizawa - Ohira was really a surprise when I was writing, I was actually expecting Tendou.
> 
> Next chapter things are going to get the push they need.
> 
> Reminder that anything after chapter 177 of the manga does not necessarily apply to this piece, although things may come up that I might use.
> 
> Also, the title is driving me insane! I really don't care for it, but nothing better has popped up...
> 
> Thanks!


	4. Situation Awareness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I suck. But I think I remember warning you guys I'm notorious for sporadic updates. Let's just say a lot of shit happened.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter! Thanks for sticking with me!

It had been a week since their win over Shiratorizawa. The joviality still ran rampant through the team—but it also sharpened their focus on Nationals to a keen edge. Of course it helped that news of Nekoma’s advancement to the semifinals of their qualifiers was another whet stone against the blade of their tenacity.

It has also been three days since Tsukishima allowed Yamaguchi to pass his phone number along the Yamaguchi-Hinata-Kenma chain to the Nekoma captain.

Three days and two hundred messages later.

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

**_Good morning, starshine!_ **

****

No, no, no. Tsukishima was not ready for this type of torture this early in the morning. It had to have been some pain-induced mistake, a slip-up of the mind, a sudden loss of cognitive reasoning when he gave permission to Yamaguchi. To make matters worse, that particular captain saw it fit to elicit a group message with another annoying party.

 

**Idiot Owl (group MMS):**

**_mornin champ ^.^b_ **

****

**Tsukishima (group MMS):**

**_Bokuto-_ san _, I do not remember giving my number to you._**

****

**Idiot Owl (group MMS):**

**_i no, kuroo past it along 2 me_ **

****

Tsukishima opened the message thread between just him and Kuroo, his fingers typing out the words with more force than necessary.

 

**Tsukishima:**

**_Did I say I wanted Bokuto’s number? I should have never allowed Yamaguchi to give you my number._ **

****

**Annoying Cat-Captain:**

**_Don’t be too hard on Freckles. No one can really say no when it’s Kenma asking for something._ **

****

Tsukishima groaned and placed his phone back on the nightstand, tempted to do the same with his glasses and go back to sleep. It was a Sunday, another actual day off. Coach still allowed them open gym for individual practice, but it did not matter to Tsukishima since he still had orders to lay low and take it easy.

He snorted, thinking that the idiot duo was probably racing each other to the gym at this very moment. Lifting his right hand, he splayed his fingers toward the ceiling, examining the blues and purples of his pinky and ring finger. The section where the skin had broke already scabbed over and was healing nicely, but the discoloration was taking its time. Carefully curling his fingers into a fist, he almost managed to touch the pads of his fingers to his palm before relaxing them again.

It ached.

But what ached even more was he couldn’t stand on the court. Could not work on becoming stronger. Could not be the pillar of the defense until his hand had healed.

Karasuno may have beaten Ushijima, but Tsukishima had ultimately lost to him.

_That_ ached the most.

His phone buzzed incessantly with texts from Kuroo and Bokuto in the group message, annoying enough to make him sit up and grab his phone again to unlock it. There were already thirty new messages between the two that Tsukishima saw no point in going back to read.

 

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

_Hey Tsukki?_

Tsukishima waited for Bokuto to drown out the message with whatever previous rambling he had been going on before. Surprisingly, the other captain stayed quiet.

 

**Tsukishima (group MMS):**

_What?_

It took an extraordinary long time for the quick-witted, always ready with some sort of quip or provocation-self-proclaimed master to respond. The ellipses indicating a person was typing flashed undeterred.

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

_If you have a free weekend sometime, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?_

It took him four times to read through the message before it finally made sense in Tsukishima’s mind. And when it finally did, it felt like he took one of Ushijima’s spikes right in the chest. Before he could even formulate an answer, Kuroo was already rambling off a list of responses at breakneck speeds.

 

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

_Only if u really wan to_

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

_I mean, if your not cool wit it, we can get a group_

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

_or if you want it to be 2 just us 2or whatever_

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

_don’t have to answer right not_

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

_**now_

**Annoying Cat-Captain (group MMS):**

_Well, off to practice. Later!_

**Idiot Owl (group MMS):**

_Kro bro u goddamn beautiful disaster._

**Idiot Owl (group MMS):**

_oy, don’t leve the guy hangin 2 long. TTLY!_

Tsukishima closed out of the message thread, stood up, took three steps away from his bed before whipping around and throwing his phone to bounce across the rumpled bedsheets.

He seethed.

What kind of idiot did Kuroo take him for? What kind of idiot was Kuroo to ask someone out over a group message thread? And Bokuto! Bokuto _had_ to be the kind of idiot to encourage that type of behavior behind the scenes.

He scrubbed at his face beneath his glasses. Still, he had to admit it was sort of endearing. Sort of. Maybe the bare minimum of endearing. On the verge of being annoying. Maybe it was actually annoying?

Tsukishima groaned. He didn’t want to deal with it. Sure, his stomach did a strange jump whenever Kuroo would earnestly try to teach him something, tease him, ruffle his hair. And he didn’t hate the messages back and forth, despite all of his complaining about it being a bother. Not to mention Bokuto, who really wasn’t as big of an annoyance as Tsukishima made him out to be.

But, really, Kuroo of all people?

He asked Yamaguchi the same question more than once and was constantly met with a smile and small shrug.

“What is _wrong_ with me?” Tsukishima pulled at his hair before his phone beeped with another incoming message. Almost tempted to ignore it after the trauma already inflicted, he walked back over to his bed to retrieve it. Besides, it was too soon for Kuroo to add anything after _that_ spectacular retreat.

Relief brushed over him when he found it was Yamaguchi.

 

**Yamaguchi:**

**_Good morning, Tsukki!! I’m heading to the gym to work on some serves!_ **

****

**Tsukishima:**

**_Ok_ **

****

**Yamaguchi:**

**_Didn’t expect you to be up._ **

****

Tsukishima chewed on the inside of his cheek.

 

**Tsukishima:**

**_Want to have coffee with me afterward?_ **

****

**Yamaguchi:**

**_Sure! Noon?_ **

****

**Tsukishima:**

**_Yeah. I’ll meet you @ school._ **

****

**Yamaguchi:**

**_Great! Later!_ **

****

It was better than nothing, Tsukishima decided. He honestly wanted to meet with Yamaguchi _this very instant_ and give him the rundown of his wonderful morning, but there was no way he would admit to being that rattled by Nekoma’s captain. Besides, Yamaguchi probably had a good—scratch  that, Tsukishima _knew_ the pinch server was well aware of the situation and would placate him with all the calm and poise that had to have come from Sugawara- _san_ ’s influence.

He had a few hours to spare before he needed to meet with his friend. Normally it would not have bothered him, knowing he could laze about, listening to his music. But with the inevitable conversation looming over his head, he doubted much peace of mind would be found.

_Do I really want to try dating Kuroo?_

Tsukishima gazed at his bruised hand and wondered why he thought it would have the answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It's a short chapter. However, there is a valid reason for its length; mostly because it was a perfect place to stop and because the next chapter is almost, almost finished. So, that means, there will definitely be a short wait for chapter 5!
> 
> And I know I said last chapter things were going to pick up, but they really didn't... sooo, next chapter for sure.
> 
> Also, I did a thing. I offer beta-read services and helped with this piece --> http://archiveofourown.org/works/5997517/chapters/13779109
> 
> Please, any title suggestions? Anyone?
> 
> There's more that I want to say, but honestly I don't remember anymore...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Oh. This Is Unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later than expected, which probably wasn't really unexpected, but here it is! And it is a decent length for you guys.

Tsukishima only lasted about an hour before he had to get up and _do_ something. He threw on the clean, plain black hoodie he had draped over his desk chair and headed downstairs. Luckily, Akiteru was nowhere to be found. Either he was still in bed or had already left to do whatever it was that drew him away from home.

Tsukishima honestly wanted to ask what it was but felt embarrassed whenever he tried. So he left it at moratorium until one of them slipped.

His mother stood at the sink, her hands submerged in soapy water with a pan that had the remnants of burnt… something. She mumbled under her breath while she scrubbed, something about just letting her make breakfast for a son who could not make it through cooking without burning anything.

Tsukishima wrinkled his nose, at least now he knew whether or not his brother was still around.

“Mom, I’m heading out,” he announced.

“Oh, Kei.” She jolted and glanced back over her shoulder. “Did you want anything to eat? I can…” She glanced at the pan and undoubtedly changed what she had been about to say. “I can put something together for you.”

“No, thank you,” he mumbled, pulling on his shoes. “I’m meeting with Yamaguchi for coffee when he’s done with practice. I probably won’t be back until late.”

His mother hummed in acknowledgment. “Oh! There’s that new place in the downtown shopping district that opened last month. I think they have a special this week you should check out.” She went back to scrubbing the pan, giving out an unnecessary “Stay out of trouble!” for the sake of parental protocol.

Tsukishima left without another word. It wasn’t needed. His parents trusted both him and his brother to make the right choices and if they slipped up along the way, they were still there to support them. As a teenager, he really did not know what to do with their almost lackadaisical approach. He had thought of the different ways he could possibly get in trouble and realized he didn’t want to; it all seemed like a pathetic way to thank them for what they have already done for him.

He started down the street, heading for the school, when he realized he had forgotten his headphones. He also realized he would be showing up at Karasuno High School two hours ahead of schedule.

Tsukishima clicked his tongue and debated whether he should go back for his headphones at least, but when he glanced behind him, he realized he was already at the halfway point. It would be pointless to turn back now.

He came to an impasse when he reached the road where the street split. One way lead to the high school and the other was the route that leads to the downtown area. If he arrived at the school now, no doubt Yamaguchi would cut his practice short to hang out with him and that was the last thing Tsukishima wanted to do to his friend.

At least this way he would be able to see what type of special that new café was running and if it would be worth it to take Yamaguchi. If not, they would always be able to visit their normal haunt.

Businesses were just beginning to open their doors as Tsukishima strode past them. He ignored most of them before entering the music store. The man behind the cash register greeted him by name and congratulated him on making it to Nationals.

Tsukishima plastered on the smile he used with most adults and thank him softly before he went about his business of browsing through the CDs. The cashier left him alone, probably well-versed in the teenager’s ways.

The store was pretty much everything Tsukishima wanted it to be; it had the current albums in stock, both national and an impressive number of international ones, albums of famous bands and artists from around the world could be found and if they weren’t the owner was more than willing to find a place to order them. It was not just albums and CDs that were sold, sheet music and books were placed on a bookshelf lined up against the wall, next to a door that lead into a small recording studio. New and refurbished instruments were also carefully displayed further back of the building. Located behind the counter was anything from recording equipment, headphones, and microphones to pitch pipes, metronomes, and cleaning oils.

Tsukishima walked up and down the CDs aisle, pulling out random ones to survey the track list and see if anything caught his eye. It was a brief moment, but something _did_ catch his eye. A figure just barely in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally, he would not have cared, but he felt this particular person was staring directly at him.

Before Tsukishima could finish turning his head, whomever it was dashed away from the store window and disappeared. He glanced at the cashier and realized he would be no help in identifying anyone; his nose buried too deep in a catalog.

Karasuno’s middle blocker made note of a few selections that he would probably pick up in the near future, whether it would be when Yamaguchi and him made their way back over later in the afternoon or a different day altogether. He sighed when he saw the clock and could not think of a reason to loiter around any longer.

With a small nod to the cashier, he exited the store. He didn’t expect to see anyone still observing him and was not the least bit surprised to find no one waiting for him.

 _Probably just someone who recognized me from the finals._ Tsukishima left it alone after that thought and wandered over to the new café to get a glimpse at what this special was that his mother felt the need to mention. He wanted to see if it was worth it before heading over to the school.

He recalled checking the café out before when it first had opened, but had seen the line and didn’t want to be bothered. Approaching it now, it still looked busy but there were a number of open tables both inside and outside on the covered patio. A chalkboard sign just outside the entrance, promoted the day’s deals and specials.

His mother knew him too well.

Yamaguchi too. He would go along with the suggestion of trying something new, but once he saw the sign, Tsukishima knew the excuse would not hold up.

_Screw it._

Tsukishima arrived at the gym an hour early. As much as he wanted to deny it, he felt better standing on the sidelines than he did lazing around his room or wandering the city. It was a step closer to being back on the court, playing. The only consolation was that during his time wasting tactics he managed to avoid thinking about the coming conversation.

Ennoshita caught his attention and waved him over. “Surprised to see you here.” He held out a magazine. “But since you are here, you might want to take a look at this.”

Tsukishima took the magazine and glanced around the gym. It was emptier than he would have expected and it took a second longer to realize…

“The third years were only here for a short time,” Ennoshita explained. “They wanted to check in first before they went off to study.”

“Ah.”

“Narita and Kinoshita are waiting for me. I just wanted to make sure the simpletons would be alright.” Despite whatever drill they were currently running, Tanaka and Nishinoya took a moment to hiss at their fellow second year. Ennoshita ignored it with ease. “With Yachi here, and now you, I don’t have to worry as much.”

Tsukishima just nodded and flipped through the magazine, finding the page Ennoshita no doubt wanted him to see. It was a feature article on their match with Shiratorizawa.

“Just give it Tanaka when you’re done reading it.” Ennoshita tied the laces of his shoes together and draped them over his shoulder. He leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t tell him, but I took out the poster of Maya Utada.” A sly grin stretched across his lips. “He thought I wouldn’t notice he had fallen asleep during Thursday’s English class. He thought wrong.” With a seemingly meek wave to Tsukishima and the rest of the gym, Ennoshita left.

Tsukishima thought he heard his _senpai’s_ laughter outside but he could not be positive.

He took a seat on the floor and leaned against the wall, skimming through the article. It was heavily biased in Shiratorizawa’s favor, not that it didn’t surprise him. There were some very good photos of the team. Though every shot featuring Hinata or Kageyama, the former had his mouth open and the latter looked like he swallowed a lemon. One photo even managed to capture his smile at Tendou after blocking him.

On the next page was a full spread of Ushijima at the highest point of his approach, hand just about to connect with the ball and Tsukishima, arms arching above the net, right there in front of the super ace. _Right. There._

Nothing moved.

It felt wrong.

Did Ushijima see the article? Did he think the same thing? The picture was a horrible cliff-hanger, forcing whoever looked at it to hold their breath and wait for the next moment. A moment that would never come.

Another thought came unbidden; what _would_ Ushijima see when he looked at this photo?

He snapped the magazine shut and set it off to the side. It didn’t matter anymore. He certainly had other things to worry about.

He let himself be distracted by the mock scrimmage the group held. Surprisingly, Yamaguchi was not on the end line with a cart of balls next to him while he went through his service motion. Hinata and he were up at the attack line, waiting for Yachi to toss the ball up to Kageyama.

“Right!” Yamaguchi called and Kageyama obliged him with a set. It wasn’t too high, but it was sent off quicker than what Tsukishima would have expected for a toss to the pinch server. Yamaguchi managed a sharp cross that grazed past Tanaka’s arm and just out of Nishinoya’s reach.

“Nice kill!” echoed around the gym.

“Sorry,” Kageyama immediately turned to Yamaguchi, “that toss was too quick.”

Yamaguchi laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “The height was perfect, though.”

“Right!”

The drill went on for a few more plays—Yachi tossing the ball to Kageyama, who put up a set for either Hinata or Yamaguchi. As soon as the ball was received on the other side, Kageyama dipped under the net and tossed for Tanaka. Each rally did not last too long, but it was more than enough for the players to enjoy themselves.

And it was almost too much for Tsukishima. He wanted to be out there.

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi greeted him once they called for a water break. “You’re early.”

Tsukishima shrugged and stood up. “I got bored sitting around.”

Yamaguchi laughed. “Honestly, I’m not surprised.” He took a sip from his water bottle, glancing at the others before nodding to himself. “That’s ok, let me just change and we can get going.”

Before Tsukishima could mount some sort of protest—that he could wait until noon, that Yamaguchi did not need to cut his practice short, or that he _really_ could wait until noon—his friend waved over the remaining players.

“I’m going to head out early,” Yamaguchi said as Kageyama frowned.

Nishinoya jumped up on Tanaka’s back. “That sounds like a good idea! Today my _kouhai_ deserve a break!”

“Noya- _senpai_!” Hinata looked scandalized that such a thing came from the libero’s mouth.

Before the first year duo could make any more protests, Nishinoya jumped down from Tanaka’s back and the two of them slung their arms over Kageyama’s and Hinata’s shoulders. “We’ll treat you to some popsicles!”

Tsukishima watched the second years ushered Kageyama and Hinata around the gym to clean up and take down the nets. Yamaguchi moved to help, but Yachi stepped in front of him with a small smile.

“You can leave clean up to us,” she said.

Yamaguchi scratched the back of his neck, a faint blush spreading across his freckles. “If you’re sure.”

“Yes!” Yachi gave him a slight push and bowed. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” She bent down and picked up the magazine and tucked it under her arm before running off to retrieve the ball cart.

Tsukishima cleared his throat and watched as Yamaguchi started as if someone dropped an ice cube down his shirt.

“Let me get change and we can go,” the pinch server said as he walked passed Tsukishima and headed out of the gym.

He followed his friend and found that he had already sprinted the rest of the way to the club room, dashing up the stairs to the volleyball team’s designated area. Not seeing the need to waste the energy to climb the stairs only having to walk back down them within the next couple of minutes, Tsukishima leaned against the handrail.

His hands made a move to tug his headphones over his ears, only to stop short when he remembered he had left them at home. With an annoyed huff, Tsukishima glanced around the high school’s campus, looking for some sort of distraction.

Again, like back at the music store, there was the sense of someone staring at him. This time, though, Tsukishima managed to stop the reflex of immediately searching for this person. Instead, he settled himself further back against the handrail and closed his eyes until he was looking through the shade of his lashes.

Apparently, he had some sort of stalker. And he was going to do whatever it took to find out whom.

Peering through half-lidded eyes and attempting to appear nonchalant was not as easy as books made it out to be. Granted the nonchalant part he had down pat, but trying to look around without actually _looking_ around was what made it difficult.

_There._

A figure stood by the gate to the school before it moved into a crouch by the pillar. Any details were, unsurprisingly, shadowed. It carefully edged forward only to be dragged back by the collar by the hand of another person.

“Tsukki!”

Tsukishima jerked and watched Yamaguchi run down the steps. He glanced back toward the gate to find the figures were gone. “Tch.”

“Is something wrong?” Yamaguchi tugged on the sleeve of his shirt, brow creasing.

Tsukishima shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

Yamaguchi had a look he was starting to use more often, the one where he knew Tsukishima was lying through his teeth but he was not going to push the issue any further. At least at that point in time. “Ok.” He nodded and continued, “I take it you want to try that new place downtown, right? I’ve been wondering when we would get a chance to check it out. Today is as good as ever, considering the special they have on strawberry shortcake.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. The cake was looking to be the only highlight of his day, especially with the upcoming topics about Kuroo, some stalker, and _his feelings_.

He sighed.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Ushijima was not sure why a group consisting of Ohira, Tendou, and Semi had shown up at his house and immediately told him they were having a senior outing. He tried to decline, stating he was going through his scholarship offers—which was partially true, he had finally organized them in the order of which they would be opened—but the three would hear nothing of it and proceeded to usher him out the door.

Ushijima admitted to himself that it was… nice. He could not remember the last time they had “hung out”. In fact, he was not sure if they ever did before.

When he stated as much, the other three shared something of a _look_ between them that made Ushijima question whether he had missed some social cue, only to have them glance back at him with varying degrees of a smile and agreement that they should do this more often.

“Of course Hayato had to go and lose his phone again,” Tendou said, lacing his fingers behind his head.

“It’s not just his phone,” Semi remarked as they waited at the bus stop. “I let him borrow my calculator and it didn’t turn up until two weeks later, after I needed it for the calc class exam. And, of course, it wasn’t working.”

“I do recall at practice that day you were particularly vicious in your serves.” Ushijima said. “You were aiming for him.”

Semi snorted. “Well, it didn’t help much. He took it as a _challenge._ Liberos are damn near crazy.”

Ohira crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his head in thought. “I would have to say that Karasuno’s libero is another good example.”

Ushijima didn’t quite understand why Tendou took that moment to elbow Ohira in the ribs before cackling and flitting away from a retaliation that didn’t come. But he did understand that when the middle blocker flung his arm over his shoulders, he was doing it to make sure he kept Ushijima between them.

It did seem strange to bring up Karasuno so casually, but they _were_ talking about liberos and Karasuno had a good one.

“What I think is crazy is that it’s not just Hayato loses anything electronic easily, it’s more along the lines that electronics don’t like him. Period,” Semi said in a bland tone, steering the conversation back to the topic of their fellow third year.

“Ooh! Ooh! Did I tell you about the time in our first year PE class, teacher had me and Hayato run the score clock,” Tendou starting laughing and tried to get the rest of the story out between gasps, “and as soon as he touched it, the whole thing blew a fuse and knocked out the generator!”

“There was a time in my second year geography class where this substitute teacher asked him to turn the lights back on after a presentation and he told her that it wasn’t a good idea,” Ohira said, watching the bus pull up to their stop. “She yelled at him and he gave in. The lights came on and she was just beginning to say, ‘Now, was that so hard,’ when Hayato snapped his fingers and somehow knocked out the generator again.”

“Was she the one that ran down the hall screaming about possessed children?” Semi asked as they climbed on the bus.

“I remember that,” Ushijima said as he followed them. A quick glance around the bus made it clear they were not going to be sitting so he steadied himself by grabbing onto the railing. “This is why Coach never allowed Hayato to close up when practice was done.”

“Pretty much.” Tendou smirked as the bus lurched forward.

Ushijima filed away the anecdotes, pleased that he now had some answers to some of the stranger happenings at Shiratorizawa, but also because he felt like he knew his team a little better than before.

Well, it really wasn’t _his_ team anymore, now was it? That was a gut-wrenching thought.

The silence between the four stretched for another couple of minutes. Semi was the one to eventually break it.

“It’s a shame really that no one mentioned Hayato’s particular quirks to Goshiki before he tried to let him play on his PSP.”

Ushijima decided his was not going to try and decipher whether that was sarcasm or not.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Once the bus reached their stop, the four clambered out, apologizing for the bruised toes as the bus only took on more passengers. The shopping district was out of the way for all of them, but had plenty of places they wanted to check out. Tendou clamored on about the latest _Jump_ issue he wanted to pick up at the bookstore, Semi nudged the middle blocker, telling him they were making a run to the electronics store first—he still needed to replace the calculator after all—while Ohira explained to them the best route to take that will end up with them at a café for lunch.

“Any place you want to check out, Wakatoshi?” Tendou leaned forward, looking past Ohira to gaze at the former ace.

Ushijima thought for a moment as they walked. He knew the clichéd answer would be the sporting goods store, but Ohira had already mapped out the place on their route. So he considered an unnecessary thought.

All his life he knew that he was going to play volleyball and even though the season was over for him, he knew that volleyball is still the main focus of his life. Except he did not know where. He didn’t like not knowing where he was going, he was supposed to be preparing for Nationals, giving him more time to consider his options. But now, he didn’t have an excuse to delay any longer.

Life was closing in on him and he wanted an escape.

Stopping in his tracks, Ushijima gazed to his left at the shop they were about to pass.

“Wakatoshi?” Semi ventured first, while Tendou and Ohira took the moment to follow his line of sight.

“I’m going in here,” Ushijima announced and strode purposefully into the shop, knowing that if he questioned himself now he would never consider it again. He dealt in absolutes and hard truths, this was an anomaly.

Dust and parchment assaulted his nose as he entered, causing a small sneeze. The sharp tang of paint and charcoal, an after-burn in his sinuses. He had no idea where to begin looking and the realization felt painfully familiar—like the letters sitting on his desk—but it was different, foreign. A change. A change he was initiating. A change from his normal. It was liberating.

Exhilarating.

It was a small art supply store, but it had a little bit of everything from what Ushijima could tell as he wandered about, tentatively observing. He paused in front of a shelf full of sketch books and wondered.

If he hadn’t lost, would he have even found himself here? Trying something he always found fascinating but never really paid attention to?

“Giving up volleyball to become an artist?” Semi stood next to him, leaving Ohira to drag Tendou away from the adult coloring books. From what Ushijima could see, some of them were, in fact, very _adult_.

He reached for a letter sized book and thumbed through the pages. “No, just wanting to see if I can try something new.”

Semi huffed and rolled his eyes. He grabbed a nearby pack of graphite pencils and an eraser. “The great Ushiwaka stepping out of his box. Can’t say if that’s a good thing or not.”

Ushijima frowned at the nickname and was not quite sure how to take those words from his setter. Before he dwelled on it any further, Semi slapped him on the back.

“Change and adaptability always tend to head toward something positive. So I guess I can’t say that this is any different.”

Ushijima stared at him before nodding. “I hope that is the case.” He accepted the proffered supplies with another gracious incline of his head.

Semi gave him another eye roll. “Well, I said, ‘tend to’.”

Ohira and Tendou appeared at their shoulders, Tendou still complaining that he couldn’t—as in, Ohira was not going to let him—get the coloring book.

“Find anything?” Ohira asked, skillfully ignoring the Tendou’s tangent of, ‘Yes, _I_ _did_ find something, but you’re being an old man spoilsport. And, hey! Why aren’t you paying attention to me!’.

Before Ushijima could even show his other teammates what he decided to give a try, all their phones started buzzing, ringing, or singing some upbeat J-Pop song.

All except Ushijima’s.

The other three third years scrambled to pull out their phones and silence them.

“Goshiki…” Tendou mumbled.

“I’ll be right back.” Semi gripped his phone and headed out of the store.

Ushijima watched him and saw him pace in front of the shop, cell phone up to his ear and face twisted into a scowl. “Is everything alright?”

Ohira laughed, one that even sounded forced to Ushijima. “Yeah, just our _kouhai_ probably making a mess of things.”

Ushijima, admittedly, had no idea what was meant by that—his mind supplied an uncalled for thought of Goshiki somehow destroying one of the practice gymnasiums and Shirabu going ballistic—but he quickly dismissed it. Goshiki wasn’t _that_ inept. “I assume it is nothing I need to worry about?”

Tendou wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “No worries! Everything is just dandy! Now, let’s get those paid for and we can continue on our way.” He gestured to the supplies in Ushijima’s hand. “I still need to get the next _Jump_ issue. Time’s a’ wastin’!”

Ushijima paid for his things and lead Ohira and Tendou out the door. Semi had finished up his call and was shoving his phone back into his pocket, mumbling to himself. He looked up when they approached him and tried to erase the annoyed crease of his brow.

“Let’s move on, shall we?” Semi asked as he started walking.

Ushijima felt a strange urge to swing his bag as they made their way to the book store. He felt lighter than ever before—excited to start creating something. He didn’t pay attention as they wandered through the book store; Tendou dancing ecstatically as he gripped the _Jump_ issue, Ohira and Semi conversing over by the non-fiction section. He couldn’t bring himself to really care about the attention he received when they browsed the sporting goods store; they skillfully ignored any questions about the match and their plans for the future, answering in polite but very brief terms. And he didn’t bother to even glance through any of the new electronics and devices; Semi fuming at the cost of his new calculator, Ohira wondering at the latest cell phone model, and Tendou getting horribly beaten at a fighting game demo by an eight year old girl.

It didn’t take too much longer before they found themselves in front of the café.  The chalkboard sign displayed a special for half off the strawberry shortcake with a purchase of any beverage as well as the soup and sandwich of the day.

Tendou, Ohira, and Semi had already slipped in while Ushijima examined the sign. He held open the door for an elderly couple as they exited, nodding as they thanked him, before he entered. His teammates waited for him at the counter, already discussing what they were going to ordered, but they kept glancing back at him, almost expectantly.

His eyes swept over the room. There, at a table in the back corner, back to the wall and in full view of the entrance sat Karasuno’s number 11.

_Oh. This is unexpected._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Guuuuuys. I'm getting married in 2 months. O.o
> 
> Anyway, I'm having fun with the Shiratorizawa team XD and I also wrote a little "short" of the phone conversation Semi had that you don't get to hear in Ushijima's POV.
> 
> And, my god, the characters did not want to work with me so I have to apologize if any of them are flat, OOC, bland, not my normal style, etc, etc. 
> 
> With the newest chapters that have been released, I may take some things from them, but as I have said before, pretty much anything after chapter 177 (I believe that's the one) does not necessarily apply.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and critiques are always welcomed! Any and all mistakes are my own. See you next chapter!


End file.
